Where To Put It
by darkpartofmydestiny
Summary: "I was in a room with a naked girl." An imagining of Jon's encounter with Ros. Rated T for typical Game of Thrones stuff.


"Come on, Jon. It's your fifteenth name day, you've got to do it!"

Jon looked around, feeling utterly lost. Jon, Theon and Robb stood in the doorway of a brothel near Winterfell. Theon rubbed his hands in glee; he was a little older than Robb and Jon, and had already developed a habit of visiting the brothel every few days. Lord Stark was unaware of this - and, Theon hoped, unaware that he had now dragged his two eldest sons to the same place. This was not Robb's first time, either, as Theon had convinced him to lose his virginity on _his_ fifteenth name day a few months earlier. Robb hadn't been since, but Theon was a well recognised face in the establishment.

"I don't know." Jon said, unusually quiet. "If father found out.." Ned was an honourable man, and Jon was sure he'd be angry if he knew his sons and his ward were frequenting whores. Jon wasn't too keen on the idea himself; he was determined to take the Black as soon as his father allowed it, and taunting himself with something that would soon be forbidden forever seemed sadistic. It wasn't that he didn't like girls, or didn't like the idea of being with a girl, it was just that sleeping with someone and paying for it seemed strange. Despite his little experience with the opposite sex, and his eagerness to sign up for a life of celibacy, Jon envied those who found somebody they truly loved. Even looking at his father and Lady Stark, he could see the love they had for each other was pure and powerful - not to mention the amount of children they had produced was a sign that they must be happy in other aspects of their relationship.

_Why am I thinking about my father and his wife while I'm standing outside a brothel? _Jon thought to himself. Jon refrained from thinking about Lady Stark too often - the anger and resentment she held towards him burned him like hot iron. Jon couldn't help but wonder, as he had done many times in his life, if his mother had been a whore and if he had been created in a place like this somewhere along the trail that Ned had trod in the war. His father had never spoken a word to him about how he came to be born, and childish curiosity had given way to anger. To be loathed just for your existence for fifteen years took a toll, and to be openly hated by a woman who loved all your siblings was a cruel torture.

"Father won't find out." Robb replied, slapping his brother on the back. Lord and Lady Stark had gone to the Dreadfort to meet with the Boltons a week ago, and it would be several days before they returned. "Go on! Theon's paying, anyway."

"Just for Jon, you can pay for your own whore." Theon replied, laughing. They had drunk a fair amount of wine before setting out, Theon especially, and they were all feeling its effects. "If you're going to take the Black like you're always blathering on about, you need to get it wet before you go. A lifetime of not knowing the feel of a nice, warm, wet cu-"

"Fine." Jon just wanted him to stop talking. "I'll do it." Theon cheered at Jon's permission, and pushed open the heavy wooden door into the brothel. Jon wasn't sure what to expect, and was relieved to see a fully dressed woman sitting at a little table, a large book in front of her. She greeted Theon warmly - he must have been a good customer, Jon supposed.

"Hello, Mora." Theon said politely, a trait Jon didn't see much of. Jon expected Theon to have more contempt for the women in this place, and seeing him being courteous to the woman was a surprise. "Is Ros free?" The woman, who Jon would have guessed to be a similar age to Lady Stark, ran her finger along the page in a horizontal line, staring closely at the page.

"Aye, she is." She looked back up at the boys. "That for you, Theon?" Jon was surprised Theon let the woman address him by his first name, as he normally insisted on more formality with those he deemed to be below him. Theon seemed more relaxed than usual - Jon supposed it was because he was such a regular.

"Jon will have her." Theon turned to Jon, grinning. Jon felt like punching him in the face. Theon turned back to the woman at the table. "It's his first time." Now Jon really felt like punching him. The woman gave a small condescending smile, which Jon resented. He didn't want to be pitied for being a virgin when he saw no shame in it. Women were meant to stay untouched till marriage, but men could go around putting it in any woman they saw fit. The women would be the ones suffering the consequences. Jon hated his name day, he felt more aware of the circumstances of his birth than ever. Snow was reminder enough, but growing up watching his siblings be spoiled by Lady Stark on their name days stung him. He had no mother, he had no idea if she was even alive. Perhaps she died in the birthing bed, leaving behind a motherless bastard baby that nobody wanted.

"Don't worry, lad. We get plenty like you here. Ros'll look after you. And you Theon?" The woman asked, looking down at her book again. Jon supposed it was a list of the girls and how many clients they received. He tried not to pay attention to the amount of markings next to Ros' name.

"I'll take Mery." Theon clearly knew each whore by name and what they could provide him with, and Jon found that a little sad. Jon had never been close to Theon, unlike Robb, and found his sexual appetite repulsive. Jon never joined in with the bawdy talk - partly because he had nothing to contribute, partly because he found Theon's descriptions too graphic and tasteless.

"Mery's gone." The woman said, offering no further explanation. "You can have Tyna, very beautiful. Exotic."

"Fine, fine. A whore's a whore. Robb will have Mara." Theon said, looking around, clearly bored. Jon expected Robb to argue at being told who he would have, but he said nothing. All his bravado was gone, and he and Jon both stood in silence shuffling their feet. If Jon didn't know better, he'd have said that Robb was just as much a virgin as he was.

The woman nodded, scribbled something in the book in front of her and stood up. "Follow me gentlemen." She was taller than Jon expected, and walked quickly and elegantly down a long corridor.

"Mara is in here." She gestured to the door on the right, "And Tyna is in there." She gestured to the door on the left. Robb and Theon vanished into their rooms, Jon hearing Theon call out some coarse good luck message. "Ros is just up at the end, follow me." Jon followed the woman, his heart thumping against his chest. He wished he had just stayed back at Winterfell. This whole thing seemed like a terrible idea.

"Here you are, love. Enjoy." Mora pushed open the door, and waited for Jon to walk past her. He mumbled his thanks, and stumbled past her. He heard her chuckle to herself as the door closed behind him.

The room appeared to be empty, and he looked around feeling overwhelmed and confused. The room was dark, a few candles flickering around making little difference, and he noticed that there was only one window, which was covered by a dirty looking wooden shutter. There was a heavy smell of perfume in the air which, combined with the wine he'd drunk back at Winterfell, made his head spin. In the center of the room, there was a large wooden bed, draped in furs and light fabrics that were unfamiliar to him - he supposed they were made for warmer climates. Here he was, about to lose his virginity, and he was thinking about _fabric._

"H-hello?" He called out nervously, feeling like a little boy. From behind the screen emerged a woman, and in the dim light he could make out a mass of curls cascading down her front. Her eyes shone despite the darkness, though her face was cast in shadow. Jon could see she was a tall woman, perhaps even taller than him, which made him feel even more child like and uncomfortable.

"It's terribly dark in here, just let me light some more candles." The woman purred, her voice soft and laced with seduction. Jon stared wordlessly at her as she walked over to a table, took a light from one of the flickering candles and lit a few more. Now there was more light, Jon could see she was a redhead. Her face was angular, but not sharp, her eyes wide and lips full. Jon thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She finished lighting the candles and walked towards him. Her body was covered by a thin gown, and as the candles glowed behind her, he could clearly see the outline of her body and he felt himself harden at the sight. She smiled at him, and held out a hand.

"Come and sit on the bed with me." She commanded, and he took her hand and followed her dumbly. Any words he might have said caught in his throat. He sat down, staring straight ahead, as she sat facing him, her legs resting on the bed. "What's your name, handsome?" Ros asked, still holding his hand, stroking his fingers with her thumb. Her hand was soft and warm against his, calloused and scarred from years of sparring and horse riding and still cold from outside. He turned to look at her, and was again overwhelmed by how gorgeous she was.

"Jon." He answered, his voice quieter than he'd ever heard it. "Sorry, I'm a bit nervous." All the thoughts he had had about his upbringing, about his conception, still swam in his head, distracting him. This was meant to be a right of passage, a moment he would remember for the rest of his life, and he couldn't focus - despite the fact a beautiful woman was sitting beside him, waiting for him to take her.

"Your first time?" Ros asked kindly, not mocking him like everyone else. He nodded, and she lifted her hand to brush a thumb over his lips. "I'll take care of you." She leaned forwards and planted a soft kiss on his lips, her hand placed on his thigh. Jon had never even kissed a girl, and the feeling of her warm lips placed against his was strange. Nice, but strange. He tried to relax, and pressed his lips against hers, trying to copy what she did. He hesitantly raised a hand and placed it on her waist, holding her closer to him. After a few moments, Ros pulled away and stood in front of him.

"I feel a little overdressed," Ros smiled, slipping the shoulder of her dress down. Her skin was as white as cream, her red hair resting against it like fire on snow. She untied a string on the gown, and like magic it fell away, revealing her perfect breasts, her firm stomach and her wide hips. His eyes drifted down, and he saw a neat triangle of red hair. He forced his eyes back up to her face, and she was staring at him, her lips pressed together and her eyes fixed on him. There was something about her expression that made him want to grab her and pin her down, something he had never felt before. Lust, he supposed.

"Don't you want to get undressed?" She asked, gesturing to his heavy leather clothing. Jon moved his hand to unbuckle his chest piece and noticed for the first time that he was trembling. He moved his hand away and took a deep breath. "Maybe I could help you?" She asked, sitting next to him. "There's no need to be scared, love. I don't bite" she chuckled "unless you want me to." She winked, and Jon knew it was a joke, but he couldn't laugh.

"I'm not scared." He said stubbornly. He knew what the problem was. "I just don't think I can do this." Ros cocked her head to the side, looking at him carefully.

"Why? Maybe if you tell me about it, I can help."

"I'm Jon Snow." He said simply, and understanding spread over Ros' face.

"Lord Stark's-"

"Bastard son." Jon finished the sentence for her. "You've heard of me then." He hated the idea that everyone knew him, everyone pitied him. He may be the son of a Lord, have the blood of one of the most powerful houses in Westeros, but he was insignificant as well as illegitimate.

"I have. You may be a bastard, but I don't understand what that has to do with anything. I'm a whore." She said, shrugging her shoulders. "None of that matters here. It's just you and me." Jon shook his head.

"You don't understand. What if we did it, here and now, and I got you pregnant?" Ros waited, silently, to hear what he had to say. "There'd be another bastard, a bastard's bastard. You'd have no life, no money and I would have nothing to give you. The child would live the life of a bastard, a poor bastard, and I would not wish any part of being a bastard on anyone."

Ros picked up her gown and covered herself, and sat beside him in silence for a while.

"You're a good man, Jon Snow." She said finally, and Jon grunted in response, not feeling at all like a good man. "Not many men bare a thought to what happens to us, or care how many bastards are conceived in this place."

"Does it happen often?" He asked, and Ros nodded her head.

"We're not meant to discuss it with clients." She said simply, and Jon noticed she looked sad. "My friend left last week."

"Mery." Jon stated, remembering the look on the woman's face when Theon had asked for her.

"Yes." Ros replied, puzzled. "Have you been here before?"

"No, Theon asked for her and was told she had left." Theon wouldn't care what happened to her, or even if he was the father of her baby. A whore was a whore, as he said, and Jon realised then that these women had nothing, were considered to be nothing, and he was sure then that he wanted no part in any of this.

"She's not gone far. She'll come back when she's had the babe, they always do. I wouldn't trouble yourself, Jon." She said kindly. "Most of us have ways of stopping unwanted surprises." Jon remembered hearing about such ways from his father's men once, in a conversation he had long since forgotten. On long hunts the talk often turned to women, and just as Jon ignored Theon, he tried to ignore the other men.

"Moon tea." Jon said aloud. "Is that what you use?"

"Sometimes." Ros sighed, clearly uncomfortable with the topic of conversation. "So are you sure you don't want to do anything?" Jon thought about it for a moment - if there were ways of preventing pregnancy, was there really any harm in it? Did he really want to lose his virginity in a place like this, when he had so many doubts in his mind?

"Yes. I'm sure." Ros squeezed his hand, and rested her head on his shoulder, and in turn he rested his head against her. He felt strangely comfortable with her, now she had her clothes on, and he felt sorry that she had to live like this, and wondered if better things waited for her.

"You'll make a good husband, you know. An honourable lad like you." Jon stiffened slightly, knowing that if his plans came to fruition, he would _take no wife, father no children._

"No, I won't. I'm taking the Black as soon as I can." Ros moved her head off his shoulder and looked at him carefully, her eyes taking in every inch of his face.

"Shame." Ros ran a hand through his hair again, brushing down his face and skimming her thumb over his lips. "If you change your mind, you know where I am." Jon laughed, and kissed her hair, inhaling the scent of wine and roses that seemed to envelope her.

"Thank you for not making fun of me." He was genuinely grateful to Ros - she was so beautiful, so experienced, and probably had experienced this situation hundreds of times. Yet, she managed to make him feel comfortable and not embarrassed.

"Don't leave yet." Jon looked at her, confused. She laughed. "If you leave now, Theon will guess what happened. Or he'll think you have no stamina. Either way he'll be the one making fun of you. Sit down and talk to me some more. Not often I get to have a conversation with a man."

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><p>An hour or so later, Jon emerged from Ros' room into the corridor, where Robb and Theon were waiting.<p>

"Well?" Asked Robb, and Jon noticed his hair was sticking up at all angles and his tunic was wrongly fastened. Jon gestured to it and Robb hurriedly rushed to fix it.

"Thanks, Theon." Jon grinned, and both boys slapped him on the back. "Can we get out of here now?"

"Come on," said Theon, walking ahead of them. "You can tell us all the gory details on the ride back."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review if you're that way inclined.  
><strong>


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